


Tanked

by blakefancier, Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Alcoholism, Altered Mental States, Angst, Chronic Pain, Drug Addiction, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 14:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not really an Alternate Universe, but rather a continuation after the possibly ambiguous (looking through fan-colored lenses) ending of the series.</p><p>Blake's risen to one of highest positions in the universe while Avon has sunk to one of the lowest. Blake tries to drag Avon, resisting all the way, out of the gutter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tanked

**Author's Note:**

> This is another old (2004) story that began as an RPG I played with Blakefancier over on LiveJournal (before it got all evil and made RPGing a real PITA). All Blake's actions and dialog are Blakefancier's. I adapted it to fic & added the garnishes. It has been published in a paper zine, Fire and Ice 8. 
> 
> This was basically an excuse to torment Avon, ANGST, ANGST, so delicious. My Partner In Crime is very good at indulging me. :^)

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

The drunk tank on New Peoria's capitol city looked much the same as any other Avon had seen in recent years, but usually he had a veil of alcohol or drugs to soften the edges. He sat on the long bench lining one wall with the other 'rummies', shaking. He needed something. He needed it _badly_. He rubbed his unshaven cheek and the bristles felt like steel spikes. They cut his hand, and the blood fell in great green drops that grew legs and teeth and crawled inside his shirt to claw and bite him, claws clacking as they whispered obscenities in his ear in Servalan's voice. Oh, he _needed_ something.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Blake towered over his advisors and the city officials, face red with anger. "What do you mean 'they've locked up the derelicts for my visit'? Are you telling me they've imprisoned people for the simple fact that they're homeless? I want them out now!" He paused. "No, on second thought, take me to the main holding cell. I want to make _sure_ these people are freed. Well! What are you waiting for?!" Pale and shaking, Blake's personal assistant ran out of the room to order the presidential transport to the front of the building.

There was some sort of argument going on outside the cell. Avon vaguely hoped they weren't bringing in another large group, as he was in no condition to fight for a place on the bench and his arse was still too sore from the last time he had sold himself to Big John for a bottle to make sitting on the cement bearable. That had been a good bottle. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, trying to remember how it felt going down, burning down his gullet, how it drove away the pain.

Overriding the concerns of his advisors and the security detail had been almost too easy for Blake. But he was a man known for getting what he wanted, and right now he wanted to see for himself that these people were freed. Furious, he led the way to the detention area bellowing, "I did not help create this government so that we could imprison people for no good reason. And no, I don't believe being homeless is a criminal act." Blake looked at all the people crammed into the cells, appalled. "Let them out..." His voice stuttered to a halt as he spied a familiar face among the crowd. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't. "Avon?"

Avon had followed the dream bottle to a pleasant dream. On the flight deck of the Liberator, of all places. _Everyone is so young... so young and unscarred..._ Avon drifted with the dream, trying to ignore the black beetles that were creeping underfoot and chewing at the ship.

Blake ordered, "Open the door. NOW!" One of the guards hastily shuffled forward and unlocked the cell door. Ignoring everyone else, Blake rushed into the cell and grabbed Avon by the shoulder. "Avon, what the hell are you doing here?"

Avon's eyes flew open. He stared blankly at the big man in front of him. "I didn't do anything, sir." 

"Of course you didn't." Blake crouched in front of Avon, and gently stroked his cheek. "It's me, Avon. It's Blake."

Avon blinked and brought the man's face into focus. He mouthed the name, 'Blake' and then shook his head. "Blake." He blinked again and it still looked like Blake. _It's probably another hallucination, but worth a try._ "You couldn't lend me a tenner for old time's sake, could you, Blake? I need something..." He hesitated, fighting his old habit of not lying to Blake, then went on, "...something to eat."

"I don't... I don't have any credits on me. Avon, what--" Blake took a deep breath and shook his head. "If you're hungry, I could buy you something to eat. How does that sound?"

Avon licked his lips. He wasn't hungry, but he'd learned not to place restrictions on any charity offered. _People don't like it when bums act arrogant._ "Someplace where they serve wine?" 

"Is that what you need? Wine?" Blake frowned. "I have a suite at the Lorien hotel. You can get cleaned up, have something to eat, some wine. You're shaking. Are you on something?"

"I just need a drink, and then I'll be fine." He hesitated, then admitted, "They won't let me in the hotel."

Blake smiled slightly. "Avon, I'm the President. They'll let you in the hotel. Can you stand?"

"Yes, sir." A hotel. Avon knew what it meant when someone offered him something at a hotel. They hadn't offered in a long time. Mostly it had been alleys and even that wasn't happening very often. _Except for Big John._ Avon got up. "Just so there's wine. I don't mind whatever you want to do."

Blake closed his eyes against the sudden prickling of tears. He took another deep breath and opened his eyes. He gestured to his personal assistant and quietly said, "Kori, make sure these people are let out. Then I want you to go shopping. Buy him some clean clothes, new shoes." Kori nodded and Blake turned back to Avon. He wrapped an arm around Avon's shoulders. "There's a transport outside."

Avon went with Blake, feeling hopeful. Blake hadn't always kept his word, but he was rich and powerful. _What's a bottle of wine to him?_ Thinking of the wine made Avon shake with desire for it. He got into the vehicle with Blake and tried to still the shaking, for fear it would put Blake off. _What if Blake thinks I'm sick?_ "I'm clean. I mean... at the mission there's free testing. So you don't have to worry about that."

Blake didn't look at Avon. He was too angry, angry at the situation, angry with himself. _How could he not have known? Why hadn't anyone told him?_ He clenched his hands into fists, trying to contain his rage. "We'll be at the hotel soon." 

_Blake doesn't look happy. I wonder if he's a rough fuck when he's angry._ Avon remembered that Blake had told someone to get Avon new clothes. _Maybe he just wants me to wear a dress when I'm fucked. I was pretty enough once..._ He glanced at a mirrored surface and saw gray stubble over a too-thin cheek, greasy hair, dirt, and bruises going to green along one cheekbone. "I'll wash up better. You'll see," he said desperately. "I'm still worth a bottle of wine."

Blake turned to Avon, his anger getting the better of him. "You're worth a hell of a lot more than a bottle of wine! Damn it, Avon! How could you... why didn't you..." Blake looked out the window, taking deep breaths. "It shouldn't be long now."

Avon shrank back against the door, and tried the handle, on the verge of panic. 

Blake looked at Avon, eyes widening in alarm. At first he was puzzled by Avon's reaction, then he realized that Avon must think he was going to be violent. He said quietly, "Avon, I'm not going to hurt you. You know I'd never hurt you. I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with myself. I thought... I thought I was your friend."

Avon stared at Blake, the adrenalin having burned away some of the mental haze, and he remembered... "I shot you." He cringed against the door, looking outside. The street was a speed-washed blur and there were vehicles all around. He opened the door and tried to jump.

Blake lunged toward Avon, wrestling with him, pulling him away from the door, and closing it before he could try jumping again. "You idiot! Are you trying to kill yourself?!" He hesitated, then said, "Avon, that was a long time ago." 

Avon stopped fighting and stared at Blake. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please!" He shut his eyes. "I forgot. I knew you'd find me someday and kill me. And I tried to forget. I'm sorry. Please..."

Blake looked at the sad, broken man and did the first thing that came to mind. He wrapped his arms around Avon and gently rocked him. "I'm not going to kill you. There's nothing to apologize for, Avon. It's forgotten. I don't want to kill you, I don't want to fuck you, I just want to help you."

Avon started struggling again, fearing a forced 'dry-out' worse than the threat of sudden death. "I don't want your help! I don't! I don't need your pity! All I need is the wine."

The transport stopped and Blake released Avon. "We're here. You're right, you don't need my pity. That's not what I'm offering. If you want wine, I'll give you wine. But you have to give me something in return. Let me help you. At least for today."

Avon was still suspicious, but hesitated. _There may be something to steal in Blake's room. Something I could sell for a week of forgetfulness and no pain. There are stronger things than wine, when you have the money._ "All right, then. Just for now."

Blake smiled. "I really am glad to see you, Avon. I missed you." Blake climbed out of the transport, and once Avon had followed him out, strode boldly through the hotel doors. Blake's entourage did an efficient job of shielding both Blake and Avon from the public. Blake grinned. "See, I told you no one would stop you from coming in. I could run through the lobby naked and no one would comment."

That remark made Avon more nervous. Blake could probably have his corpse taken out with as little notice. But then... _I've been expecting to be found dead in an alley for some time._ The big potted plants in the lobby started sending out green tentacles, dripping with corrosive slime. Avon walked carefully around them, pulling on Blake's arm to guide him to safety. "They haven't been fed." He abruptly dropped Blake's arm, surprised at himself. _Why do I care if the plants eat Blake?_

Blake blinked in confusion and glanced at the harmless aspidistras. "Thank you, Avon." The entourage squeezed into the lift, and they all headed up to the penthouse. As he opened the door Blake said, "I don't know why they bother giving me the best room in the hotel. I'm so busy most days that the only time I'm in the room, I'm asleep."

Avon glanced around the room. There was a ribbon-wrapped bottle on the table against the wall. It, and a basket of fruit, and a bouquet of flowers, were all apparently gifts of the hotel. Avon's mouth watered. "Could I have a drink before I wash?"

"No. Get cleaned up first. You can use my shaving kit and there should be a new toothbrush." Blake turned and began talking quietly to a very nervous looking man, finishing with a loudly proclaimed, "We'll deal with the negative publicity later. Besides, isn't that your job?" Blake then ordered everyone except Avon out of the room. 

_Maybe Blake's changed his mind about the sex._ Avon took off his clothes and let them drop. He walked naked into the bathroom and didn't bother closing the door. Everything was so clean and bright, it hurt his eyes. All the toiletries he remembered from better days were there, bright and new, in crisp white wrappings. He felt even filthier looking at them. He stepped into the shower and began washing. _Maybe if I get clean enough, Blake will fuck me and give me *two* bottles before he sends me away._ He saw several things that would make good lubricants and prepared himself, thinking of the luxury of being well-greased and fucked in a clean bed.

While Avon was in the shower, Blake made a quick call home. His housekeeper told him the children were fine, although they missed him, and she agreed to keep them away from the news. Blake didn't want them hearing about Avon from strangers.

When he was as clean as one scrubbing was likely to get him, Avon stepped out of the shower and dried himself. His hair was a tangled mess, and too long. He unwrapped a comb from its sanitized paper protection and worked the knots out, heedless of the pain. He brushed his teeth and gargled. Then he shaved, having to stop several times until his hand steadied. He finally looked in the mirror and could see nothing else he could do to make himself presentable. He walked back into the main room of the suite. "I've washed."

Blake looked up from some paperwork and smiled. "I thought you were going to be in there all day." He gestured to the shopping bags piled on the bed. "Kori brought some clothes for you. There should be pajamas in one of the bags. Oh, and I didn't know what you wanted for dinner, so I ordered steak for the both of us."

"Please. I _need_ a drink." Avon clasped his shaking hands together.

Blake stared at Avon for a very long time. "Yes, I can see that you do." He stood and walked over to the minibar. He opened the bottle of wine and poured a small glass. "You can have one glass now. You can have another while we eat dinner. And if you're good and finish most of your meal, you can have another glass after."

Avon took the glass of wine, carefully, afraid to spill it, vaguely noting a faint sense of resentment at Blake's paternalistic attitude. It didn't matter, not when there was wine. He gulped it down, not tasting it. Taste wasn't important, either. "Thank you." It wasn't enough to do anything about the pain, but it eased the shakes. He was feeling cold, so he went to the bags Blake had indicated and searched until he found the pajamas. It felt odd, putting something on to sleep in. Bending to put the trousers on hurt, and Avon was angry with Blake because he wouldn't allow him more wine, but he didn't let that show, as he didn't let the pain show. _You can't let people see. They just hurt you more, when they know where you are weakest._

Blake was watching him, and commented, "You're too thin." He frowned. "What happened to you? Why didn't you come to me? I would have helped you. I would have given you whatever you needed. We were friends. I _thought_ we were friends."

"Come to you?" Avon stared at Blake, blankly. "How? I didn't know where you were. Half the time I didn't know where _I_ was." Even too little wine helped; the little scuttling creatures were back in the walls, where they belonged, skittered and scratching in the dark places. "After a while..." Avon remembered stowing away on ships, hungry and cold and thirsty and always hurting, of paying his passage however it was demanded when he could hide no longer, but he can't remember where he was going. Or why. "... after a while I heard you were President. And I was...nothing. If I had tried, do you think anyone would have let me get to you? Leave you a message? Ask to talk about old times?" Avon laughed, bitterly. 

"You could have tried." Blake walked over to Avon and put a hand on his shoulder. "I looked for you, Avon. Every planet I helped to free, every Federation prison I raided, every crowd I spoke to, I looked for you." He paused. "I named my son after you. Well, his middle name. Lysander Kerr Blake."

Avon replied, in a flat, emotionless voice, "I looked for you for more than two years. Two years when everything was falling apart around me." His voice took on slightly more feeling, "And when I found you, it only made matters worse. For both of us. Without me, you succeeded. You won your rebellion. You became President. Without me ... without me, you've apparently found a bond-mate and begun a family. You didn't need... you don't need, the political embarrassment of associating with me."

Blake laughed. "Avon, by now every reporter in the known galaxy has filed a story about the President of the Federation bringing a criminal to his hotel room. And I don't have a bond-mate." 

"I wasn't thinking clearly when I agreed to come with you." Avon looked down at his hands, which were trembling slightly. "I wasn't thinking at all. ... So you still haven't found the right man?"

"I didn't say that." Blake rubbed his thumb along Avon's jaw.

Avon closed his eyes and shivered. "You can't afford me...not on a permanent basis. Even less than we could afford to come out in the open on Liberator." His eyes flew open, desperate and hungry, for once wanting something other than drugs or drink. "But you could give me one night. Since I'm here, they're already thinking it. A momentary lapse would be forgiven. Even the President can be human, once in a while."

Blake was stunned into silence. He stared at Avon, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly. He was grateful for the interruption of a knock on the door and a muffled voice announcing that room service had brought dinner. Blake let in a young man and watched as he set out their dinner. He gave the boy a generous tip as he let him out of the room, and then turned to Avon. "Dinner. We should eat."

"I need more wine." Avon looked at Blake. "I won't get drunk, but I can't eat without it."

"I did promise you." Blake poured more wine into Avon's empty glass. Then he sat at the table and uncovered his dinner plate. "And what happens to you after our night together?"

Avon drank half the glass of wine. "I don't think about the future any more, Blake." 

"Well, I don't think about anything but the future." He methodically cut his steak into small pieces. "I'm too old for a one night stand. And letting you go in the morning would hurt too much. You can have the bed. The couch is a pull-out."

Avon sat at the table and began to eat, slowly, watching Blake, and saying nothing.

"It's a pity that you won't get to meet Liana and Lysander. You'd like them, I think. Liana's brilliant; she's at the top of her class. And Lysander, he's always taking things apart. He can't quite put everything back together, but we're working on that." Blake reached into his pocket and opened up his wallet. He pulled out a picture of the three of them at the beach. "Liana is eleven and Lys is five."

Avon looked at the picture. Three happy, smiling faces. They didn't look alike, but you could tell they were a family. He swallowed the rest of his wine and got up. He went over to the bag of clothing and began sorting out the clothes. Blake's assistant had been sensible enough not to buy anything obviously expensive. Avon could work a slightly better neighborhood for a while, wearing them. _Maybe even earn enough for a painless overdose._

"I told them about you. Liana thinks it's romantic, that I looked for you." Blake laughed. "Lys was always more interested in Orac. After this term in office, I'm retiring. I never wanted to go into politics in the first place and now that I have the children... I should spend more time with them."

Avon stripped off the pajamas and began dressing, still in silence.

Blake stood and turned to Avon. "I never stopped loving you. I'll never stop loving you."

Avon replied, low-voiced and angry, "For two glasses of wine, I'd let any man in this city fuck my arse. But that's not enough for you. You want to fuck my mind. You want ..." He spread his hands, hopelessly and continued, sounding tired again. "... I don't know. There's not enough left of me. I died with Orac. So much for romance. Believe me, you don't want to inflict me on your children."

"I don't believe that. I don't believe you're dead." He touched Avon's cheek. "I will always love you. Always." Blake leaned forward and kissed Avon gently on the mouth.

Avon closed his eyes and trembled, not resisting Blake, but not responding either. He whispered, "It hurts to be alive, Blake. I'm tired of pain. I'm eaten hollow by it." 

"It doesn't have to hurt. Not if you don't want it to." Blake kissed Avon again, slowly, tracing Avon's lips with his tongue. He whispered, "You taste so good. ...If you still want tonight, I suppose that one night is better than none." _I'll change your mind, Avon._

"Oh, yes. I want tonight." Avon suddenly lifted his arms and wrapped them around Blake. He thought of asking for more wine, but didn't want to chance Blake taking it the wrong way... or possibly worse, taking it the right way and realizing Avon wasn't talking about metaphoric pain. "I want you filling the hollow places for tonight."

"I'll do my best." Blake pulled Avon against himself. "I forgot how good you feel. Isn't that funny?" Blake kissed Avon's throat, licking and sucking at the delicate skin while rubbing his back.

Avon moaned low in his throat and stroked Blake's back, hands coming up to card through Blake's curls. "I forgot as well."

"It was supposed to be better." Blake gently bit Avon's earlobe. "We were supposed to be happy." He slipped his hands under Avon's shirt. "You have new scars."

"When Orac died." Avon smiled, glad of one thing he'd done. "Servalan insisted I be there to gloat over, when they forced me to give them Orac. Do you remember the bomb I placed in Orac, after that alien tried to use it to destroy us?"

Blake gently traced the new scars. "I remember." He nuzzled Avon's jaw, then kissed his way to his mouth. Once again he kissed him slowly, thoroughly, exploring Avon's mouth with his tongue.

"I changed it, on Gauda Prime, to go off if Orac was activated by anyone except one of us." He pressed his hips against Blake. "Servalan's greed was her undoing." 

Blake smiled. "My brilliant Avon." He began to undress Avon, starting with his shirt. "How do you want it tonight?"

"Oh," Avon said lightly, "the lazy way," while working Blake's shirt out of his trousers. "Lying on my belly in a comfortable bed, with you doing all the work."

Blake pushed Avon's trousers down off his hips and gently cupped his arse. "I can do that. ... You will stay for breakfast, won't you?"

Avon paused to think but morning was a long way off, and _now_ was all that mattered to him. "Yes. All right." Avon worked his way into Blake's shirt and pressed his mouth to a nipple. "Breakfast." He sucked on the nipple.

Blake moaned softly and brought his hands up to grip Avon's hair. He murmured, "I love you." He gasped as Avon sucked harder, lashing the nipple with his tongue. "I don't have any lubricant."

Avon lifted his head. "I already took care of it." He grinned. "Whilst I was bathing." He proceeded to give the other nipple its fair share of attention, hands busily undoing Blake's belt and trouser fly at the same time.

Blake frowned slightly but instead of commenting, he ran his hands through Avon's hair. _You're going to break my heart... again._ He stepped back and smiled. "Let's move to the bed." He quickly finished undressing and crawled between the covers.

Avon stepped out of his trousers and shrugged off his shirt. He got into bed and moved close to Blake, wrapped his arms around him and just held on tightly for a long moment, head pressed against Blake's chest.

"We don't have to make love." Blake returned Avon's embrace just as tightly. "I'm perfectly happy holding you in my arms." He closed his eyes. "I missed you so very much. I don't mind holding you."

Avon lifted his head, eyes suspiciously bright. "I missed you, too."

Blake opened his eyes. "Don't we deserve to be happy?"

"The universe doesn't care what we deserve. I would stay with you, if I could..." Avon kissed Blake's chest. "I have no future to offer, Roj." 

Blake pushed Avon away. "Don't lie to me. I can take everything else, but don't lie to me, Avon. You'd stay with me if you could? What's stopping you?"

Blake's push knocked Avon onto his back. Avon gasped, unprepared for the flash of pain that shot down his legs.

Blake saw the expression of pain on Avon's face, and reacted instinctively by gathering Avon into his arms and rolling him on his stomach. "What's wrong?"

After a moment the pain faded to the normal level. Avon moved his toes, and closed his eyes briefly in gratitude. _Not yet. Not yet._ "It's all right. I just... moved wrong."

"No, it was more than that. I saw your face, you were in agony. Is that why you don't want to be with me? Are you dying?"

"No." Avon looked away from Blake. "I'm not dying." 

"Then what is it? Tell me, Avon. I have a right to know why we can't be happy."

"It will do you no good... but I suppose you do have a right..." Avon picked up Blake's hand, and guided it to his back, to the scar splashed across the lower left side. "Orac's revenge. Fragments too close to the spinal column to be removed without an unacceptably high chance of paralysis, yet, left in place, they continue to migrate and will eventually accomplish the same thing." 

Blake gently stroked the scar. "There must be something that can be done. A specialist somewhere who can remove them. Or at least make the pain bearable. Who have you spoken to about the fragments? I could get you a list of doctors who might help. Hell, I could bring the doctors to you."

Avon closed his eyes and leaned against Blake, exhausted in the aftermath of the pain. "I don't remember who I saw. Whoever I could afford. I... I..." He opened his eyes and looked at Blake. "I need a drink."

"No, you don't. Avon, let me help you. I'll get you the best medical care in the galaxy. I have the money, the influence."

"If you make it stop hurting, I'll do whatever you say." Avon closed his eyes again in surrender, to the pain, to Blake, to everything. "I'm just... tired of hurting."

Blake said softly, "Avon... Kerr." Blake kissed him gently. "I will. I'll make the pain stop. But you don't need to give yourself to me. I'm doing this because I love you. Because I want you to be happy. And if you're happy without me, I'll let you go."

"I was never happy without you." Avon tried to think, to say the right thing, but he needed another drink. He shivered with the cold of _need._

Blake wrapped his arms around Avon. "I'll take care of you, if you'll let me. I'll make you happy. The children will love you." He whispered, "Just hold off for a few minutes. Just a few, then you can have another drink."

"A few minutes?" Avon nodded, not wanting Blake to think worse of him than he already must. "I can do that..." He clutched at Blake and trembled as another muscle spasm struck.

Blake kissed the top of Avon's head and rubbed his shoulder. "You and I will be happy. We'll all be happy."

Avon clung to Blake, silent. He hadn't thought of happiness in years. _Is it just another hallucination? I don't care, I don't want to lose this one, even if I'm lying in the gutter freezing to death while dreaming it._

"Kerr? I need to leave you for just moment. I'm going to tell one of the bodyguards to get my physician. He's a good man, he'll give you something for the pain." Blake slipped out of bed and went to the door, where he spoke with one of his aides, who rushed off. Then Blake returned to the bed and took Avon in his arms again, carefully.

Avon mustered the strength to smile at Blake. "I'm sorry we didn't get to make love." 

"We'll have plenty of time for that. Right now, my main concern is making you feel better."

"That always made me feel better." Avon closed his eyes again, remembering how good it felt, trying to force the pain back with memories.

"I know." Blake kissed Avon. "Maybe after Doctor Cordai takes a look at you."

"Will he be here soon?" Avon's knees drew up. Thinking about the possibility of no pain made the actuality of it harder to ignore.

 

Before Blake could answer there was a knock on the door, then it opened. A stern-faced black man in a dark suit carrying a medical bag walked in, surveyed the two of them on the bed, and immediately went to Avon sitting on the bed next to him. "Do either of you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Avon said simply, "I need something for pain." 

Cordai stared at Avon, with a disapproving frown. "What sort of pain? I'm not a drug dealer." Blake started to protest but Cordai ignored him.

Avon had long since grown inured to that accusation. It was true enough, regardless of the reason. "My medical record's at the main charity clinic. I have foreign objects lodged near my spine."

Blake brushed Avon's hair back from his face. "It's true. Cordai, he's in physical pain. Help him, please."

Cordai frowned. "I want to examine him tomorrow morning." He told Avon, "And I _will_ be checking those files." He opened his medical bag and prepared a hypo. "This pain-killer shouldn't react negatively with whatever drugs you have swimming in your veins. But I suggest you keep yourself clean for at least twelve hours." He pressed the hypo to Avon's arm.

Avon sighed in relief as the doctor gave him the injection. "Thank you, doctor." He closed his eyes and felt his muscles untense as the pain became muted, faded to no more than a sensation of 'not-rightness', instead of burning, vicious, knife-slashes.

"You're welcome." Cordai pulled out a few condoms and a tube of lube from his bag. He tossed them on the bed and looked into Blake's eyes. "He probably told you he was clean. And you probably believe him.... He meant something to you once, but you can't let that cloud your good sense. You have to think of the children."

Blake said quietly, "Get out."

Cordai shrugged and gathered his things. Just before he walked out the door, he stopped and looked back. "I'll see the two of you in the morning, Blake." The door shut quietly behind him.

Avon said, "He's right, you know. I'm an alcoholic, and an addict. I'm hanging on to rationality at the moment... at least I think I am, but you can't depend on it. Or on me. Even if my back could be cured, I'd still be an alcoholic and an addict." 

"When have I ever given up on anything, on anyone, because it was difficult or because someone said it was impossible? I love you. And that won't make everything better, but you have to know that I'm not going to leave you behind."

Avon smiled faintly, oddly reassured by Blake's familiar dedication to 'lost causes'. "You must infuriate your current advisors as much as you did me." He stretched, rejoicing in the relative ease of the movement. "If all this hasn't thoroughly put you out of the mood, now would be a good time for you to put one of the doctor's gifts to use." He looked at Blake. "I used to love being fucked to sleep by you, Roj."

"I remember." Blake leaned over and kissed Avon's shoulder. Then he put all the condoms but one on the nightstand. He opened the lube and poured some on his fingers. "Let me make sure you're ready." Carefully, as if he feared Avon would break if he was the least bit rough, Blake slipped a finger inside of Avon. He fucked him gently with the finger, then added a second one.

Avon spread his legs and smiled into the pillow. "That feels good."

"I should hope so." Blake kissed the small of Avon's back. He added a third finger, stretching him, fingers searching for that spot that always drove Avon wild. "You're beautiful, like a dream."

Avon murmured, "More like a nightmare", but without any force behind it. He made a surprised sound of pleasure as Blake continued to stroke him. Sex had been nothing more than a transaction for so long he had forgot how good it could be. Even bad sex was better than nothing, for the momentary release of pain-killing endorphins, but this was _good_. The tenderness and care of Blake's fingers up his arse remind him what it was to be cherished.

"Do you remember? I loved being inside of you. Held, enveloped by your body. You were perfect. You still feel perfect." He found the spot and stroked it once, to test Avon's reaction.

Avon moaned greedily and spread his legs further, pushing up into Blake's hands. His body was responding to the touch of another, for the first time in years, his cock swelling. "Oh, oh, yes, I remember. Those were the good dreams." 

"It doesn't have to be a dream anymore. It can be reality." Blake pushed his fingers in and out of Avon, making very sure to brush up against his prostate. "It will be reality. Us, Kerr. Us."

Avon wanted very much to believe, but was afraid to say it out loud. He whispered, "Please... oh, please, let this not be a dream. I want you, Roj." 

"You have me. You've always had me." Blake slipped his fingers out of Avon. He opened the condom and with shaking hands, rolled it onto his cock. "Are you ready for me?"

Avon smiled, remembering their old joke. "Always." A nervous anticipation tightened his stomach muscles and made his arse twitch.

Blake noticed the tension and rubbed Avon's hip. "It's all right. I promise it will be all right." He positioned his cock against Avon's hole and pushed in slowly.

"Ah..." Avon turned his head to one side, and smiled. "Go on, fill me, Roj."

Blake pushed in the rest of the way and stopped. "There's only ever been you for me. There will never be anyone else." He rocked his hips slowly, angling them until he found Avon's 'spot'.

"I'm...glad you..." Avon was breathing faster, clenching and unclenching around Blake's cock. "found me. Even if it doesn't work out. Oh... that's good, Roj." He grasped a double handful of sheet and braced himself. "Ride me hard, Roj. Please. Let me feel you."

Blake kissed the back of Avon's neck. "I love you." Blake pulled out until only the head of his cock rested inside of Avon, then shoved in hard. He rode Avon roughly, concentrating on Avon's reactions, wanting only to bring him pleasure.

Avon rocked back against Blake, trying to synchronize with Blake's thrusts. "I... love you, Roj." Bit his lip because he hadn't meant to say that. "Oh, I love your big cock up me." The rough strokes excited him further, making him hotter and harder. He thrust his cock against the bedding as Blake pounded into him.

A thrill of happiness ran up Blake's spine at Avon's words. Knowing that after all these years, Avon still loved him, meant more to Blake than anything in the universe. "I know... what you meant. I love you... your body." He gasped and sped up the thrusts. "It's been so long since I... I haven't... I love you."

Avon was shaking again, but this time from an excess of pleasure, every nerve-ending taut and singing delight. "No matter... " He gasped, "no matter what I let anyone do to me..." He panted heavily as Blake worked his arse hard "...they never touched me, Roj. Only... only, you." _It feels so good, so clean and warm, no pain, no pain, only stretched tight fullness with Blake moving slickly inside._ "Oh... fuck me forever, Roj. I ... never... never want to stop."

"I will. I promise that I will." Blake moaned. "Protect you, always protect you... and love you... and want you." Blake licked and sucked on Avon neck. He never thought he would feel this way again, warm and loved, held tightly in his Avon's body. _Avon is just as I remember, the feel and taste of his skin, the sounds of his pleasure... everything._

Avon blinked rapidly, as his vision was suddenly blurred by excess moisture. "I... I'll try, Roj. Oh... if you..." he moaned, "haven't given up... on me, I'll try."

"Never give up... never..." Blake gasped. "Love you. Precious... my precious love." He was panting, chest heaving with exertion. "Close, I'm so close. Kerr..." Blake cried out, his body trembling as he came into the condom.

Avon had been holding back, with a strength of will he'd thought long gone. Blake shouted and thrust, then stilled, jammed up against Avon's arse. Triggered by the cry, Avon's climax hit, and he spurted hot into the clean sheets, moaning Blake's name.

Blake caught himself before he collapsed onto Avon's back. He pulled out carefully, tossing the used condom into the wastebasket near the bed. Then he settled next to Avon, running his hand lightly over Avon's back. "Did you mean it? Will you really try?"

Avon turned onto his side and smiled. "Yes. It will be ugly, Roj, and I don't know if I can do it, but I will try." He snuggled up to Blake and closed his eyes. "Thank you... I think I could sleep now."

"I'll be right here when you wake up. And we'll have breakfast and talk." Blake kissed Avon. "Good night, my love."

"Good night, Roj." Avon sighed, and drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> While I didn't write it, I know that Avon recovers, the docs fix him up physically, and while he remains mentally fragile, he and Blake stay together, and are happy.


End file.
